


Requiem

by monimala



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monimala/pseuds/monimala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knew what would happen when she said “yes.” She had it all more or less sorted when she took him by the hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requiem

She expects the graze of his knuckles against her cheek. The tender fold of his palm around her neck as he draws her close for another kiss. He is everything polite and forthright, touching her _just_ _so_ , as though they are courting. He asks her permission before undressing her, stopping after every third button to ask again “Are you certain?” and “Is this all right?” He looks her straight in the eye, gives her that courtesy and utmost respect, as he doffs his own clothes. This, too, she expects.

She knew what would happen when she said “yes.” She had it all more or less sorted when she took him by the hand—clear-eyed and clearheaded, no liquor behind this particular mistake—and hailed a cab downtown. Edwin Jarvis is a gentleman first and foremost, and a butler besides—frighteningly attuned to one’s personal needs.

What she doesn’t anticipate is what he’s like when they’re both finally stripped bare. How he comes over her in the anonymous hotel bed with a strange intensity in his eyes and an even stranger fury in the tight line of his jaw. How he knees her thighs apart and settles between them, big and thick and hard where she’s soft. She’s ready, of course. She’s been ready for days. But it still startles her when he pushes inside, and she has to grip his lean shoulders and hang on as he begins to move. The bed squeaks in rhythm, the headboard thumps against the wall. And then she forgets everything but the sound and the feel and the musky sex scent of a man’s skin.

He’s terribly good at it. Beautiful to look at, too. Bent above her, hair darkened with sweat and mouth open as he pants for breath. Prim and proper Jarvis, ruffled and mussed at last. But still so attentive. _Always_ attentive. 

He hushes each of her gasps and moans with soft, gentle kisses that belie the powerful motion of his hips. He murmurs “Miss Carter” into the curve of her neck, but his body calls her “Peggy” with such rough familiarity that she aches in the most precious of ways. He takes her and gives back all at once. It’s as though she’s in bed with two different men.

And perhaps she is.

One who never came back, and one who will inevitably go.      

She’s only had one lover between, and she knows now is not the time to tell Mr. Jarvis of a brandy-fueled regret in London with the man who cuts his checks. Now is not the time to admit that she is only convinced of Howard Stark’s innocence because of the lingering threads of her own guilt.

Now…now is for rising up off the mattress, canting her hips and whispering, “Please.” And because he is just so very good, just so very accommodating, he gives her what she desires. His hands slide beneath her. He locks her legs around his waist. They make love sitting up and face-to-face, like intimate equals. A slow grind of ecstasy that makes her head fall back, exposing her throat to his long, languid kisses. She doesn’t see the ghost of someone else in his silhouette. Not in these final moments, as her belly uncoils with pleasure and he pulls back just far enough to spill his seed on the sheets.  

She pretends she doesn’t hear him cry out “Anna.” She knows she is not the only one in this room with ghosts. She cannot begrudge him the hoarse, choked noise and the sheen of damp in his eyes or the moments he takes to compose himself, using a corner of the bed sheet to wipe clean some of the mess they’ve made.

After all, she knew what would happen when she said “yes.” Something beautiful, but something sad as well. This is a betrayal. This is one vow broken and one date never kept. Their losses were long ago, but they are each only now mourning. And each in their own way.

Edwin Jarvis is first and foremost a gentleman, but she is no lady—just a woman with needs.

So, none of her expectations deter her from asking him to fuck her again.

 

 

\--end--

 

January 14, 2015


End file.
